Arroyo de la Caña. A small, gray-tan bobcat caught by its hind leg in a “legal” trap. Not much bigger than a house cat. It growled at us in a singsong. We came as close as we dared. One of us—not wise to the strength and wildness of bobcats—wanted to throw a coat over it and try to release it, in spite of its broken leg.
As we hiked away a fierce-faced, bearded man drove up in a big pickup. Bobcat skulls, and probably skins, bring a price. I’m not sure how much, but New Mexico is very poor.